Miss Edith
by willowwood
Summary: Ever wondered how Drusilla got Miss Edith?


Title: Miss Edith  
  
Author: willowwood  
  
Rating: PG

Author's Notes: If you could take the time to leave me some feedback, it would be gratefully accepted and treasured. 

  
Dedication: I dedicate this story to Juliet Landau, who I met at a convention this weekend, because she is one of the most beautiful, gracious people you are ever likely to have the pleasure to meet.

  
Summary: Ever wondered how Drusilla got Miss Edith?

  
Email: willowwood@postmaster.co.uk

Miss Edith  
  


Angelus has been missing for almost three weeks now, and nobodies seen hide nor hair of him. Not since he showed up at our place, after first getting his soul restored, blaming Darla for bringing him the gypsy girl, then scurrying out into the street before Darla could rid him of his soul and the torment that it would undoubtedly put upon him.

Don't get me wrong, we've looked for him, scouered the streets of Romania but the closest we've come to finding him was when we discovered the gypsy campsite not far out of town. As was expected they had no idea where Angelus could be, nor were they willing to offer us any assistance in finding him, or the riddance of his soul.

Now thankfully none of them will be help anyone because, well there dead.

Drusilla hasn't been the same since he first disappeared, constantly rambling about the bad people hurting bloody 'precious Daddy', asking when he's coming back, insisting that we go and find him. She and Darla are frequently arguing stupid bints, our grandsire threatening to stake her throughout the course of the first week, after all Darla could never understand her, if it wasn't for the great poof Angelus, she would have probably done it along time ago.

But Dru's gotten worse as the days, have turned to weeks. It never used to be this bad- of course his bleedin disappearance affected all of us, her more than Darla and myself but she wasn't put off by it, still hope full that he'd come back. 

However after our trip to the gypsies camp, slaughtering everyone in sight. She changed drastically, I'm not entirely sure why- maybe it was because the information of his disappearance had finally penetrated that wonderfully muddled mind of hers, or maybe like Darla and me, it was at that very instant-as the last gypsies body hit the dirt floor- she realised that we'd probably never see Angelus again.

After we returned from that massacre she hardly said a word, just gazed at the sky dreamily whispering to the stars now and then. When we arrived back at where we were stopping, she proceeded straight to our room only to lock her self inside, and that's how it's been ever since.

She's been in there constantly miserable, unhappy and alone, refusing to come out even to hunt or to feed. She hardly lets me in there with her-only to sleep and take her food, which she never bloody touches. She even shy's away from me, when I move to caress her beautiful hair and face.

And it's killing me because I know there's nothing I can do to stop her feeling the way she is, nothing I can do to bring Angelus back.

One night when Darla and I were on our way home, from having been hunting- Again Drusilla had chosen to stay behind, assuring us that she'd be alright and that we should go with out her- we passed a little toy shop, and even though I'd passed it countless times before on my way home, this time something in its window display caught my eye.

And I found myself stopping to admire it, because seated in the centre of the display, surrounded by an array of little wooden houses, cars, people and a variety of other things, sat a little girls porcelain doll.

"William, what the hell do you think  you are doing?"

The moon from above me shone through the window reflecting on its already white face and accentuated its paleness. Which contributed in causing its pouting red lips to appear the colour of blood, and her eyes sparkled as though filled with mischief, peering below a fringe of moose blonde hair that lead to long tresses that fell softly on to shoulders covered in red velvet, it was a picture of pure innocents. 

"Spike!"

And strangely I couldn't help but think of Drusilla and the many things I loved about her, of her locked away in our room-mourning his leaving.

Suddenly a female voice broke me from my reverie, and pulling my gaze away I spotted Darla standing besides me, a confused expression on her features and I was surprised to realise that I had forgotten that she was there.

"William do you enjoy ignoring me, what on earth has you so fascinated?" she asked, moving closer to me and gazing through the shops window.

"The doll" I replied simply, amazed that until now I hadn't heard her speak, I nodded towards the object in question. Darla's brow furrowed some more

"Why are you interested in a doll?" she continued a hint of annoyance in her voice, she watched me with great curiosity, as though the answer was written across my face.

"A present" I again stated flatly ignoring her tone, my gaze never leaving the dolls form. From the corner of my eye I watched as Darla's gaze slowly swept from me to the doll and then back to me again, as her brain tried to rationalise what I was saying.

"A present? Who on earth would you give a doll……..Drusilla" she continued after a pause, as a slight trace of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

"Hmmmm young love, but truthfully I don't know why you bother. After all with Angelus gone, to her we may as well be dead" She rolled her eyes.

 I couldn't be certain if she was mocking me or not, but I knew she was right about one thing, until Drusilla knew or believed that Angelus hadn't abandoned her completely- we may as well leave my darling locked in that room.

I hadn't been able to get the thought of that bleedin doll out of my mind since I had first seen it, the feelings it evoked in me, what Darla and I had discussed. 

Two days later when Darla and I returned in the early hours of the morning, we found Drusilla sitting in a chair of the main room, something cradled in her arms, a box resting at her feet.

As soon as we walked through the door, her head shot up to greet us, her pale blue eyes sparkled with excitement and I was instantly filled with joy.

"Spike, Grandmamma. He came back to me, to see me, and he brought me a gift" the smile that adorned her face was glorious, spreading from one cheek to the other and I decided there and then that if I travelled the world I would never find anything more beautiful. She walked towards me carrying tightly what she had been cradling in one hand, a piece of paper in the other.

"What? Who came?" I asked trying to conceal my own happiness, at that she handed me the piece of paper, and then whispering Daddy kissed me on the cheek.

From over Drusilla's shoulder I spotted Darla, her expression was a mixture of shock, disappointment and dismay, and I knew she'd seen it, knew she knew what I'd done.

But I also had a sense that, at first she'd believe Drusilla actually thought that the ponce had come back to us. We stared at one another, hers appearing to be more of a scowl than anything, then after a moment she broke eye contact. Turning her gaze to Drusilla

"Drusilla, why don't we go into the other room and you can show me that wonderful dolly of yours" Darla called as though talking to a child.

"Miss Edith" Drusilla corrected her immediately, pulling away from me and walking towards her.

"Excuse me!" our grandsire snapped, it was more a statement than a question.

"Miss Edith, that's her name, she told me" Drusilla informed oblivious to her annoyance, Darla opened her mouth as though to scold her, but then closed it again choosing to leave her to it than ask mindless questions, then she guided Drusilla into the other room, closing the door behind them.

As I stood there-I was filled with a mixture of emotions, joy that Drusilla was back to her old self again, but blinding jealously of him, of his hold over her, the thought that he could change her so easily -the piece of paper in my hand, but I didn't move to read it, what's the point when I knew exactly what was written on the bloody thing, after all it was I who wrote it.

To My Darling Drusilla

I will always be there with you.

Love always

Angelus

It gave her back her hope, that's all that matters.

The End


End file.
